


Heartache Tonight

by phantomofthedumpster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Lots of Angst, M/M, Marauders, Pining, more like friends to enemies to lovers actually, who am I kidding, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28880334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomofthedumpster/pseuds/phantomofthedumpster
Summary: Sirius Black has been avoiding his past for as long as he can remember, but when Remus auditions for the vacant spot as bassist in his band, he is forced to confront one of his worst memories.An Alternative Universe in which Sirius is the lead singer in one of 1980's London's rock bands.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 26
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter, here we go!
> 
> Please let me know what you guys think :)

Sirius Black was not a nostalgic person. He didn’t like dwelling on the past; partly because he was all too familiar with the uselessness of it, and partly because it tended to make him feel like shit.

And besides, it was not like he had plenty to feel nostalgic for. Sometimes he found himself reminiscing on a fond memory from his school years, and he’d smile to himself. But all those nice memories would always be clouded by a dark storm cloud in Sirius’s mind. A storm cloud of family trauma, hurt, and betrayal.

So he preferred to not think about the past at all, whether the memories were good or if they were bad.

The past wasn’t too bad, anyway. He had his own flat in East London; a one-bedroom with a luxuriously big living room, a modern kitchen and a nice bathroom – by London-standards, at least. The selling point, however, had been its close proximity to James’s and Lily’s flat, which was only two houses down the road.

If James was relieved to finally catch a break from Sirius after seven years of boarding school and three years of university, he didn’t show it. Or perhaps, more likely, James was just James; diplomatic and tolerant, even when Sirius was being a prick. _Especially_ when Sirius was being a prick.

It was almost annoying how perfect his best friend was. Sometimes, when Sirius was in a particularly bad mood, he’d play a fun little game of convincing himself he wasn’t worthy of having the positive force that was James Potter in his life.

”Ridiculous,” James would tell him when Sirius would get too drunk to stop his mouth from spilling the thoughts of his bleeding heart. ”You’re my best friend, Padfoot. And I’d be equally as miserable without you, as you’d be without me. So don’t you dare be such an egotistical arse about our friendship, alright?”

”Alright,” Sirius would echo back, a grin on his face. And there would be nothing else to say on the matter, no point in arguing about any of it; James simply wouldn’t have it.

That was the way with most of Sirius’s problems. James would always attempt to carry at least half the weight of them on his own shoulders, and he’d always try to be understanding, even when there was no way he could even begin to imagine it.

In all honesty, Sirius had no idea what he would do without James Potter, and he was incredibly lucky he hadn’t grown tired of him after all these years. He shuddered at just the thought of a world where kind, generous, and hilarious James Potter did not exist.

It was September, and remarkably hot for the season. Sirius had his bedroom window open wide, and leaned his elbows casually on the windowsill, a cigarette between his lips. Marlene would always tell him to not smoke, rambling on and on about how it would ruin his voice one day. And Sirius would always kindly tell her to piss off. It was rock’n’roll, part of the whole theatrical charm of it. At least Mary got it, and would often sneak out the back during rehearsals to have a smoke with him. Poor Marlene thought they were snogging.

As of right now, the band was in quite the mess. Their bassist, Andrew, had just quit. It was entirely Sirius’s fault, too, which didn’t help the sinking morale in the band.

He had always had a bit of a rocky relationship with Andy, who he had met during his first year of university. They had started dating the year after, and for a couple of months, everything had been perfect. Andy had always been nice, nicer than Sirius believed himself worthy of, but as most things went in Sirius’s life, the happiness didn’t last very long.

By the time they started the band at the end of their third year, Andy made him promise that nothing was more important than the band; they had to be professional, act as if nothing was going on between them. Their arguments were their own, personal and excluded from what happened on the scene.

For a while, it had worked. They had been too busy to see each other much anyway, and whenever they did, they both pretended everything was just like it had always been. Their relationship never had an actual label, and looking back at it, Sirius was convinced that Andy had seen it more like a friends-with-benefits-situation than anything else, anything more.

Sirius had still had him, then. Every other night, in between rehearsals, or after shows. And he had thought it was enough, that he had been enough for Andy.

As it turned out, it had not been enough. It had only happened a month ago, but Sirius’s chest still stung when the memory resurfaced.

He had gone to meet up with Andy in the room in the back after a particularly successful show, grinning from ear to ear. But when he pushed the door open to the room, he didn’t find Andy shirtless and red-cheeked as he always was after a show. The first thing he saw was a pair of red high heels and a lace bra. The second thing he saw was Andy’s brown eyes, filled with shock and anger, and third was the naked blonde clinging onto him.

After that, his vision had turned blurry with tears, and he had slammed the door shut as he left. They had had a nasty argument the next time Sirius turned up for rehearsals after he had stayed home with ’a cold’ for a couple of weeks.

In the end, it was Mary who had kicked him off the band. ”We’ll be better off without him, love,” she had said, pulling Sirius in for a hug after Andy had stormed out of the building. ”I couldn’t stand being around him knowing he hurt you.”

And thus, the long process of finding a proper bassist to replace Andy had begun. It had proved to be much harder than Sirius had expected, mostly because he was picky. Unnecessarily so, if you asked Marlene.

”Honestly, Black,” she complained after Sirius had dismissed yet another decent bass player because they did not know who _Robert Plant_ was (honestly, how could he be expected to associate with such a person?). ”We need a new bass player, and London isn’t exactly flooding with them.”

”We need a _good_ bass player, Marls,” Sirius argued, rubbing his temples as if the last audition had actually caused him a proper headache. ”I’ve had enough of these tone-deaf idiots for today,” he declared and stood.

”We still have three more auditions scheduled this afternoon!” Marlene exclaimed, waving her notebook in front of Sirius. ”You can’t just leave!”

Mary glanced over at Marlene, raising her eyebrow before she turned to Sirius. ”Probably better if you do, darling,” she said gently, placing a hand on his arm, ”Marlene and I will finish up the last auditions on our own. We’ll let you know if we find anyone. Just get some sleep, alright? You look like shite.”

So Sirius went home, cracked his bedroom window and started nursing his budding headache with the pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

They really did need a new bassist soon, and perhaps he had been a bit too harsh during the auditions. He had always been sort of a perfectionist when it came to his own interests and hobbies. But really, Sirius had always poured his heart and soul into this band, what was so wrong with expecting the same from their new bassist?

”You’ll know when you find the one,” James had said, speaking as if he was referring to Sirius’s one true love rather than the next bassist to his band. But Sirius supposed he was right, still. James Potter usually was.

So Sirius kept his hopes up, trusting his gut to let him know when the right bassist walked in. His hope was starting to falter, with their next show coming up and none of the bassists London had to offer seemed to satisfy. They had already had to cancel one show, and he wasn’t about to cancel yet another one.

The cigarette between his lips had burned almost the whole way down, and Sirius quickly put it out in an empty tea mug that stood on his bedside table. As if on cue, there was a knock on his door, and he went to open it.

Mary was grinning widely at him when he opened the door but didn’t come in when Sirius stepped to the side to let her in. She reached inside his apartment though, pulling his leather jacket from its hanger and handing it to him.

”Put this on, there’s someone you have to meet,” she said, giving him a wink. Sirius looked confused but wasn’t one to argue with Mary. So he did as he was told, shrugging on the leather jacket and following Mary out into the hallway.

”You found our new bassist then?” He asked as he locked the door to his apartment, Mary waiting impatiently behind him.

”Mhm,” she smiled, ”he’s wonderful, Sirius, I think you’ll love him. Bloody brilliant, too! Wooed both Marls and me,” she giggled and latched on to Sirius’s arm.

”Really? What did he play?” Sirius asked, looking down at her. She had brought her car around, parked it on the pavement outside of the building.

”Eagles, I think,” Mary said, ”never heard anything like the way he played it though.”

”And that’s a good thing?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow sceptically.

”Trust me, you’ll understand when you hear it.”

They both got in Mary’s car, a red Ford Cortina with an equally bright red disco ball in the shape of a heart hanging from the rearview mirror. Sirius could feel his heart beating hard with excitement and anticipation. The way Mary was talking about this mysterious bassist made him think that maybe, finally, they had found the one.

Mary parked the car on the back of the building where they would rehearse, leading Sirius through the narrow hallways that smelled vaguely of smoke and alcohol. He could hear voices when they started getting closer; he recognised one as Marlene’s and suspected that the other belonged to the bass player. It had a soft melodic tone to it, something Sirius placed as southern, perhaps welsh.

”In you go,” Mary smiled at him and pushed the door open to their rehearsal room. The lightbulb, forever flickering, cast the room in a yellowish, warm light. Instruments laid scattered over the carpeted floor. In other words, the room looked just like it had when Sirius had left it just hours earlier.

But it _felt_ different.

”There you are!” Marlene exclaimed, and the man in front of her turned around to look at him when he entered, and Sirius’s heart stopped in his chest.

He wasn’t a nostalgic person, never had been. He didn’t even think of the past; not ever, not anymore. But it seemed as if it all came washing over him then, like a tall wave it crashed over him; drenched him, made it impossible to breathe.

He remembered the first time they had met, the very first day in boarding school. Sirius had been grumpy about his parents sending him away to some institute, and he had offered Sirius half of his chocolate in an attempt to cheer him up.

He remembered how he would watch him study, fascinated by everything the boy would do – from his scratchy handwriting to his effortless intelligence.

He remembered getting drunk for the first time at fourteen, stumbling up the stairs to their shared dormitory and laughing at everything the other boy said.

But most of all, he remembered their fifth year, when all those good memories had vanished, just like the boy he had known. He remembered those green eyes and how much anger they had held, how much hurt and betrayal they had portrayed.

Sirius had done his best to forget all about them in the five years that had passed, but it seemed to him now that they had never really left him at all.

Remus stood before him now, as tall and lanky as Sirius had remembered him from their school years; his hair the same fluffy mess of light brown curls.

”Sirius, this is Remus,” Mary introduced them, unaware of their history, ”and Remus, this is Sirius. Our lead singer.”

Maybe Sirius had imagined it all; all the contempt and anger he had convinced himself that Remus felt for him. How Remus hated him, despised him, even. Because Remus reached his hand out, gave Sirius an awkward smile and they shook hands. _They shook hands!_

”You have to play that part again, Remus!” Marlene said, smiling widely, ”Sirius you’ve got to hear it!” Remus nodded and picked up the bass again, retreating into the corner of the room where he sat down on a chair, bass in his lap.

Sirius stood dumbstruck by the doorway, watching as Remus’s fingers moved over the bass strings, plucking at them and creating a rhythmic melody that made Sirius want to close his eyes and just _listen_.

 _Heartache Tonight_ by Eagles, Sirius recognised the song almost immediately, although Remus played it like it was the anthem of the universe, the sky and all its stars. He played the bass unlike anything Sirius had ever heard before, and his heart ached, knowing that this was just what James had talked about when he had said Sirius would know when he found the one. But why did it have to be Remus? It seemed to him the universe wasn’t done playing pranks on him.

Remus finished, letting the final deep bass tone vibrate in the air for a moment before he stilled the strings with his long, boney fingers. He looked at Sirius, and so did the girls. Sirius cleared his throat, but Remus had rendered him completely and utterly speechless.

The problem was that Remus Lupin was perfect. He played the bass so perfectly that there was nothing Sirius could criticise; no possible way for Sirius to dismiss him the way he had with all the earlier auditions. He was perfect, and that was the bitter truth.

”Right,” Sirius said, stalling to find the right words, ”not too bad.” Well, those definitely were _not_ the right words.

”Not too bad? Come on, Black, will you ever be satisfied?” Marlene asked and raised an eyebrow. ”He’s bloody perfect, and you say ’ _not too bad_ ’?”

 _I know he’s perfect_ , Sirius wanted to say, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t say much at all, it turned out. Sirius shrugged, running a hand through his hair and patting his pocket for his pack of cigarettes.

”Well,” Marlene sighed in defeat, ”I’ll go grab a cup of tea. Been a long day.” She left the room, and to Sirius’s despair, Mary followed her out, leaving him alone with Remus.

He stood as if frozen in the doorway, just watching Remus as he gently placed the bass back on its stand.

”Did you have to make it so unbearably awkward?” Remus asked without as much as looking in Sirius’s direction.

”What?” Sirius asked, dumbly. Remus looked up at him, throwing his hair back and away from his face and Sirius’s heart rate doubled. He felt sweaty, dizzy and sick all at once.

”It’s fine if you don’t want me in the band, considering our… history,” Remus said, ”I’ll give them some kind of excuse, don’t worry about it.”

”No, I-”

”Look, I hate this as much as you do,” Remus interjected, gesturing between the two of them, ”I couldn’t play with you, not after what happened. But you’re obviously too much of a coward to tell your bandmates about that, so I’ll leave.”

Sirius clenched his teeth, glaring daggers at Remus from across the room. ”I’m not a coward,” he snapped, ”I’m not the one fleeing with my tail between my legs, am I?”

”I am not _fleeing_ ,” Remus argued, his green eyes sparkling the way they always did when he got heated about something. ”I didn’t flee last time either.” Sirius said nothing.

Marlene and Mary returned then, holding two steaming cups of tea each. Remus’s body relaxed, and he smiled at the girls. Sirius, however, was still fuming with anger.

”All right, love?” Mary asked, kissing his cheek and handing him a cup of tea. Sirius nodded and brought the cup to his lips, taking a mouthful of the drink even though it was way too hot to drink yet. Maybe if he burned his vocal cords off, he didn’t have to speak to Remus ever again, he thought.

”Great, how about we sign the contract then?” Marlene suggested, scrambling through various note sheets for the contract they had printed when they first started hosting auditions.

”Great,” Sirius agreed and stared at Remus, knowing that he didn’t plan on signing the contract at all.

At least, that was what he had _expected_ him to do.

”Perfect,” Remus said and smiled at Marlene. He took the pen and located the line that waited for his signature. ”Rehearsals are Monday through Thursday, you said?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Remus plays is, as stated, Heartache Tonight by Eagles. It's a really good song, I recommend giving it a listen!


	2. Chapter 2

Sirius had been betrayed multiple times in his life; he knew the stinging feeling all too well by now. But this was not the same. He was angry, furious even, that Remus had signed the contract despite telling Sirius that he wouldn’t. That he would back off, leaving Sirius alone and never bother him again. And then he hadn’t.

Was it that he wanted to be cruel? Did he just want to get back at Sirius for what happened in the fifth year? But in all the years Sirius did know him, before all of that, Remus had never been cruel. Far from it, actually. Sure, he had been blunt, blunter than James when it came to calling Sirius out on his drama, but he had never been _cruel._

If not cruelty, then what?

Sirius didn’t get the chance to confront Remus about it, not that night, not for a whole week. Which was fine, really. Perfectly fine. Sirius avoided Remus, and Remus was Remus; always private, mysterious and distant.

They were always accompanied by Marlene and Mary whenever they were in the studio; Remus would always already be there when Sirius arrived, late, and he would always hurry off afterwards as if he had somewhere else to be.

”Marls and I are going for a drink,” Mary said as they were tidying up the studio after a Thursday night of rehearsals, ”are you boys joining us?”

Sirius’s eyes moved over to Remus, but he deliberately ignored him. He had, ever since he signed that bloody contract. It had only been a couple of days, and it wasn’t like Sirius had anything to say to Remus, but he hated being ignored, nonetheless.

”Sorry,” Remus said, sounding genuinely apologetic, ”I can’t tonight.”

”Aw, bugger,” Marlene said, ”you’ve got to come along sometime though, I would love to get to know you better, Remus.”

”Yeah, another time, perhaps.”

”Another time,” Mary agreed, and then turned to Sirius, ”what about you, Black?”

Sirius, who had not been paying attention, blinked his eyes and stared at her dumbly. It took a moment before his brain caught up, and he gave Mary a smile. ”Right. Yeah, sounds fun,” he said, glaring over at Remus, ”it’ll be good for band morale,” he added, pointedly.

”Invite Potter too, will you?” Marlene said, ”and have him bring Lily, I miss her.”

Remus, who had hidden away in the back of the studio with a bundle of cables, looked up suddenly. They had been his friends too, back then; James and Lily. And perhaps he wanted to see them again, Sirius realised. But even if he did, he didn’t mention it.

”I better get going,” Remus said then, pulling his sleeve up to expose his slender wrist and the watch that was strapped around it. He said goodbye to the girls and nothing to Sirius before he left.

The pub was small, crowded and smelled of sweat and booze, and the large group took their seats around a small table in the back of the room. They ordered the first round, then the second, third and forth until they were all drunkenly giggling and singing along to the music playing in the background.

Dorcas was clinging to Marlene, who was laughing fondly with her girlfriend. Lily leaned her head on James’s shoulder, nothing along to the soppy love song playing. Mary was flirting with a tall blonde bloke by the bar. Sirius was cradling his bottle of beer in both his hands, warming the liquid and making it undrinkable.

Ever since what happened between him and Andy, Sirius had sworn off dating for the unforeseeable future. He had more important things to deal with anyway, and right now, he couldn’t afford to prioritise anything or anyone above the band. Not even his childish dispute with Remus.

”You’ve got to tell us about this new bassist of yours!” Lily exclaimed as if she had read Sirius’s mind. He leaned back in his seat, bringing his bottle up to his lips as an excuse for his sudden quietness.

”Oh he’s brilliant!” Marlene gushed, ”really cute too, don’t you think, Sirius?”

Sirius choked on his beer and James had to pat his back while he coughed. 

”Come on, Black,” Marlene teased, ”I see how nervous you get around him! You fancy him, don’t you?”

”I do not,” Sirius said sternly, perhaps a bit too sternly. He sounded defensive, and Marlene only took that as a victory. 

”Right. Keep telling yourself that, love,” she chuckled, ”anyway, are you having a winter wedding or will you wait until the summer?” Sirius glared daggers at her over the table.

”I do not fancy Remus,” Sirius snapped. James’s hand, which had been absentmindedly stroking Sirius’s back since the choking incident, stopped suddenly.

”Remus? Remus Lupin?” he asked, wide-eyed. He glanced over at Sirius, and then back at Marlene, who nodded unknowingly.

”Yeah. You know him?” she asked curiously. James’s eyes flickered to Sirius for a moment, and all Sirius could do was pray that James understood the look in his eyes. And he did, of course, because James Potter would always be able to read Sirius like an open book.

”No, not really,” he lied. Or was it a lie? It had been five years, after all. However, he was not the only other person besides Sirius who had gone to school with Remus Lupin.

”He went to school with us!” Lily said. Sirius wanted to sink through the floor and disappear. ”Lovely kid, smart too. Don’t know what happened to him though, he dropped out the fifth year, didn’t he?”

Sirius found himself relieved that Lily had never heard the full story behind Remus’s sudden disappearance in the fifth year, or her drunken lips might have let it all slip out, and he wouldn’t be able to handle that.

It was bad enough that James knew what had happened because he had been angry with Sirius for a full month after that. It had always been harder to take James’s disapproval over anyone else’s.

Sirius felt lightheaded, and it wasn’t the beer. He pushed out of his seat and stood up. He desperately craved a breath of fresh air; the pub was way too crowded and stuffy. Not to mention, he needed to get as far as way from anything that reminded him of Remus Lupin and their fifth year of boarding school.

”I’ll have a smoke,” he excused himself and pushed his way through the pub. The air outside was cold but far easier to breathe. He sat down on the pavement, distractedly fumbling through the pocket of his leather jacket for his pack of cigarettes.

Sirius pulled one from the box and with shaky fingers placed it between his lips. He didn’t know why, exactly, the whole Remus situation affected him so badly. He hadn’t thought of Remus much at all since they left boarding school and all those memories behind. But now that he was back, he couldn’t _stop_ thinking about him. 

Sirius heard footsteps behind him and didn’t have to turn around to know that James had followed him outside. 

”Alright?” he asked, placing a hand on Sirius’s shoulder and plopping down next to him on the cold pavement. Sirius didn’t reply.

Sirius offered him a cigarette, and as always, James denied it. James sighed, leaning back a bit with his hands against the pavement behind him.

”Look, I know you’d rather not confront it, but I think you have to. You can’t just keep bottling these things up, you know?” he said, tilting his head up to the clear sky. The stars were much dimmer here, in London, in comparison to where Sirius had grown up, and he had always preferred it that way. They reminded him too much of his family.

”It has worked pretty well so far, don’t you think?” Sirius huffed and sucked on his cigarette. The thin, white smoke swirled in the air before him for a moment before it dissipates. James shook his head.

”It’s not how it should be, Padfoot,” he said, looking over at Sirius now. He seemed serious. ”I don’t like seeing you miserable.” Sirius couldn’t help but laugh humourlessly. ”You know what I mean,” James sighed.

They sat in silence for a while. Sirius knew that James was struggling, unsure what he could say to make him feel better because that was surely what he wanted to try doing. It’s what he would always do.

”Have you talked to him at all, about what happened?” James asked carefully and Sirius shook his head.

”I don’t know what I would say,” he admitted, ”I don’t think there’s anything I _can_ say. He has all the right to be angry with me, to hate me, and no reason to forgive me. So why bother?”

”You can’t know before you’ve at least _tried_ to ask for his forgiveness,” James pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

”I’m not going to _beg_ for forgiveness!” Sirius argued, angrily putting his cigarette out against the asphalt. He inhaled once again before he spoke. ”Even if Remus does forgive me, I don’t think I can forgive myself.”

James gave his shoulder a squeeze. ”Maybe just tell him you’re sorry then? Because I know you are,” he said and Sirius nodded, looking down at where the embers of his cigarette were starting to faint.

”Am I a bad person, James?” he asked quietly and looked up at his friend again. James smiled warmly at him and shook his head.

”You are not a bad person, Sirius,” he said, ”good people make mistakes, too. That doesn’t make them bad people, just… human.”

Sirius smiled. To have a friend like James, who was so hell-bent on helping Sirius with any problem, insecurity and intrusive thought, meant never having to be alone.

”Right, let’s get back inside,” James said, and they both stood and walked back into the pub. Inside, Lily and Mary were dancing on the table and singing along to Queen.

Sirius managed to have a good night, surrounded by his friends. Remus was still on his mind, but Sirius was more determined now. He was going to make things right, and then he could finally be completely free of his sins. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this turned out to be more of a ‘James Potter appreciation chapter’ than anything else, but I promise more Wolfstar interaction for the next one! Exciting stuff coming :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for slight violence towards the end.

It was Tuesday afternoon and the end of September. The air was getting colder, the leaves on the trees in the park were starting to turn fiery orange and red, and it didn’t seem to stop raining.

The show was just around the corner now, next weekend, and Sirius was nervous. He wasn’t usually nervous before shows, only excited. But this time was different, because this time, Remus was there. Sirius didn’t know why, but he found Remus’s presence nerve-wracking. Perhaps because Sirius never seemed to be able to read the expression on Remus’s face, and could only ever assume that he was angry.

And to be fair, he probably was angry most of the time. He still hadn’t said a word more than necessary to Sirius, and carefully avoided even being near him, or look in his direction.

That particular Tuesday, however, Sirius found himself alone with Remus for the first time since he had started playing with the band.

Despite the rain, and the fact that Sirius easily could have spent the whole day in his bed, he decided to go to the studio. He needed some way to calm his nerves, and cigarettes were no good. So he had gotten out of bed around noon, put on his raincoat, and walked to the studio.

Mary was working late, and Marlene had to accompany Dorcas to the hospital; she had hurt her wrist somehow, Marlene hadn’t said more.

And that was all good with Sirius. He assumed the girls had given Remus the same information, and that he could have the studio to himself that day. He had spent the first hour warming up his voice; a habit he often fell out of, even though it was, according to Marlene, very important.

Then he had sung, and sung and sung for hours on end. By the time the door to the studio cracked open, Sirius’s throat felt raw and sore.

Remus stood in the doorway, a messenger bag in brown leather slung over his shoulders, his hair wet and slicked to his forehead so that it fell into his eyes. He stared for a moment, and Sirius felt his cheeks flush before Remus finally looked away.

”Didn’t Marls tell you?” Sirius asked. Remus shook his head, small droplets of rain spraying about him like a wet dog as he did.

”Tell me what?” Remus asked awkwardly, still standing as if frozen in the doorway.

”Rehearsals are cancelled tonight,” Sirius said hoarsely, reaching for his water bottle that stood on a stool next to the microphone stand. ”Mary and Marlene had other things to do.”

”Why are you here then?” Remus asked, and finally entered the room. Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

”I needed to practice,” he explained, ”I keep fucking up this part of the song.” Remus raised an eyebrow, stubbornly walking closer.

”Which part?”

Sirius stared at him, daring him to take another step closer if he didn’t value his life. ”You don’t need to be here,” he said through clenched teeth, ”as I said, rehearsals are cancelled tonight.”

”Right,” Remus replied, and even _smiled_ in Sirius’s direction, ”but I am already here now, so I might as well try and help you. Which part?”

”I don’t need your help,” Sirius snapped at him, but Remus had already picked up the bass and taken a seat on the stool by the microphone stand.

”Which part?” Remus asked again, stubbornly.

Sirius sighed and closed his eyes. He suddenly felt as if he was fourteen again, struggling with biology homework, books spread across his small bed in their dorm room. Remus had always tried to help Sirius back then, because Remus was kind like that and because they were _friends._ You could barely call them friends now,with everything that had happened between them, so why did Remus still try and help him?

If this was forgiveness, Sirius knew he didn’t deserve it. But he opened his lips, eyes still closed, and started singing. The first couple of tones came out choked, shaky and _awful_. He felt Remus’s eyes on him, heard how he shuffled slightly on his seat, and then struck the strings of his bass.

He played effortlessly. Remus Lupin always did. The deep, vibrating sound of the bass strings echoed through the small studio, even when it wasn’t connected. The acoustic sound of it accompanied Sirius’s song beautifully, but Sirius thought about not singing, just so that he could listen to Remus play.

Just like that first day, Remus’s audition, Sirius couldn’t help it. There was something about the way Remus’s long, boney fingers struck the strings that made him want to do nothing but listen. It was hypnotising, really.

Sirius’s singing recovered from those first, shaky lines, and by the time he had reached the part where he usually struggled, his worries had melted away. He sang, and practically forgot that Remus was even there. He forgot all about their history, about all of the awful things the both of them had experienced during their school years, before, and after.

Music had always been his escape. First, he had listened. Snuck off to buy records at the local record shop and playing them disrespectfully loud; making the walls of his childhood bedroom shake with the bass, his parents yell from downstairs, begging him to turn it off.

Then came the singing. Sirius would always sing along to his records, in the beginning it had mostly been to add volume and bother his family even more _._ Then, because it made him _feel_. The lyrics and the melodies spoke to him in a way that nothing else could. They stilled his anger when he needed to calm, fuelled it when he required strength. It had become his refuge, and it had saved his life. And it had given him his friends, his band, his new family.

And, as it seemed, it had led Remus back to him. Sirius wasn’t sure how he felt about that specific part just yet, but he also knew that it didn’t matter. He had promised himself he would try, and so he would. It wasn’t easy; looking into Remus’s eyes in search for his own redemption, but it would be worth it. It hurt, but then, so did a lot of things in Sirius Black’s life.

”Bloody hell,” Remus mumbled after Sirius’s voice left the small room. ”I thought you said you were struggling with some part.”

”I was,” Sirius admitted.

”No, Sirius. You weren’t.”

Sirius groaned in frustration and turned away, clutching his water bottle tightly to his chest before unscrewing the cap and drinking from it. His throat hurt, but it wasn’t from exhaustion. He swallowed slowly, only turning back to Remus once he had allowed himself a few calming breaths of air.

Remus’s eyes were locked on him, and Sirius had a feeling he hadn’t looked away once in the minutes that Sirius had sung. It was agonising.

”Are we…” Sirius began, gesturing with the water bottle between them, ”going to, you know… talk?”

”Do you want to talk, Sirius?” Remus sighed. He looked exhausted then, as if the memories that resurfaced were physically weighing him down.

Sirius shrugged, sitting down on the sofa so that he didn’t have to stand so awfully close to Remus. ”Do _you_ want to talk?” He countered.

Remus put down his bass, resting his hands on top of the headstock, his head on his hands. He looked at Sirius for a moment, contemplating his answer. Then, he said.

”Yes.”

”Yes?” Sirius asked, surprised.

”Yes,” Remus repeated. ”It’s what adults do, is it not? And we’re adults now, Sirius. Even if some of us are refusing to accept that fact.” Sirius huffed at the insult, dragging a hand through his hair.

”Alright. You talk then,” he said.

Remus sighed, again, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking at Sirius with an expression he knew all too well. Eyes didn’t age, and neither did Remus’s expressions, it seemed.

”I need you to know that I can’t forgive you,” Remus spoke, looking at Sirius with that same expression on his face, bare and open in front of Sirius. Honest.

”Oh, this conversation is already off to a lovely start,” Sirius muttered sarcastically and sat up properly on the sofa.

”I can’t, Sirius. You… you fucking ruined my life, alright? You fucking ruined _me_ , I can’t forgive you.” Remus’s words were pained, and Sirius felt the same emotion sting it his chest. Of course, he had anticipated that, but still. It hurt.

”I know,” he replied, trying his best to keep his voice steady.

”But,” Remus continued, ”we can be professional.” He stood now, walking over to Sirius with his hand extended. Sirius glared at it, and then up at Remus’s face, his damned green eyes.

”Professional?”

”Yes, Sirius. All this rock’n’roll made you deaf or something?” Remus stood before him now, hand still extended.

Sirius wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have seen a shimmer of that familiar mischief in Remus’s eyes. The one he remembered. The one he had _loved_ , once. There he was again, joking, and Sirius’s world caved in on itself. He could cry, right there and then. Fuck pride, fuck _dignity,_ Sirius would beg on his knees for Remus’s forgiveness, if it meant things would go back to being the way they had when they were both fifteen, carefree, and happy. But he couldn’t, it couldn’t. The untroubled trouble-making teenagers they had once been were now gone, dead, and Remus would never forgive him and he had said as much.

”What do I have to do?” Sirius asked. He sounded choked, even to himself, and Remus visibly pulled back at the sudden change in Sirius’s tone.

”Be a man,” Remus said and his voice was quieter, too. ”We were children back then. I have changed, I’d be selfish to think that you can’t have as well.”

And it was true, Remus had changed. Not in terms of looks, no, he was still as painfully beautiful as he had been when they were both young, but he had matured. He was twice the man Sirius could ever be, he realised. Remus was the kind you looked up to, who inspired and _helped._ Sirius, on the other hand, was the kind of man you had to help.

”Sirius,” Remus said when Sirius hadn’t answered for a full minute. Sirius nodded quickly. ”Good.”

Sirius grasped his hand briefly, giving it a shake and then quickly pulled away. Remus, satisfied, turned back to his bass. Sirius pulled his hand to his chest and held it there, tightly over his beating heart.

It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was closer to what actually Sirius deserved – a cold agreement. The kind that required for every shred of emotion to be ripped off like a plaster; every string cut. His actions had been unforgivable, Sirius knew that now better than ever before. How had he dared ruin something as precious as Remus’s life, something as pure as Remus Lupin himself? It was unforgivable – a sin – and there was no redemption. No saving.

He needed a cigarette, needed to calm his nerves. Marlene wasn’t there, so Sirius pulled his packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one in the studio. Remus looked up almost instantly as if he could smell the smoke before it even left Sirius’s cigarette, and Sirius wouldn’t be surprised if he actually had. Remus bit his lip, looking between Sirius’s hand and the lit cigarette, and his lips when he put it between his teeth.

It was Remus’s fault Sirius smoked, and they seemed to be reminiscing on the same memory for a moment. The two of them backs pressed against the cold stone of the school’s wall, sharing a single cigarette between the two of them. Their fingers had brushed together then, every time they carefully manoeuvred the cigarette from one’s hand to the other’s. Remus had smiled at him, softly, and Sirius had close to melted.

Things had seemed so hard then, laughably so, with Sirius’s added years of wisdom. His childish crush on Remus Lupin had been one of the easiest things in his life, back then.

”The show is soon,” Remus spoke and Sirius looked up quickly, pulled mercilessly from his daydreams. ”You need a bassist. You need me.”

Sirius wanted to protest. There was a time in his life when he had needed Remus more than anything in the world, but Sirius was trying to shove that part of himself back into its small box at the back of his head.

”But after the show,” Remus continued before Sirius could as much as open his mouth, ”I could leave again. Just the one show and I’ll be off. I’ll help you out of this mess, Black, this one mess, then no more.”

”I can sort my messes out perfectly by myself,” Sirius snapped. Remus may be good, much better than Sirius will ever be, but he was preaching like some kind of saint and Sirius just couldn’t stand it. Why didn’t he just forgive Sirius already, if he was that mature?

”Bloody hell, Sirius,” Remus said, clearly stirring with that brewing anger that felt familiar enough. ”You’re insufferably stubborn.”

”I’m stubborn? _I’m_ stubborn?!” Sirius was suddenly on his feet, yelling. He had accidentally put out his cigarette in the tight fist that his hand had shaped into. ”You’re stubbornly holding on to a five year old grudge!”

”You _ruined my life!_ ” Remus screamed back. Sirius felt an odd stir of adrenaline in his chest, and he stepped forward, closer to where Remus was flushed with red, burning anger.

”You can’t blame me for being a failure!”

Remus, who had also stepped forward, fists tight and ready for a fight, now froze. His eyes went cold, and Sirius could see how they were glancing with tears that Remus angrily blinked away. He held his breath, and so did Remus.

”Oh, Sirius,” Remus began, sounding almost pitying, ”I’m only half the failure you always were.”

It was Sirius’s time to freeze, breathless and aching in a way he never had before. Remus’s words stung like a knife in the part of his heart that had never stopped trusting Remus Lupin. He had told him about his parents, back then, when things had been at their worst. Sirius had trusted him, told him things he still hadn’t told James, and Remus had comforted him. He had held Sirius to his chest, gentle fingers clutching him tightly, and Sirius had felt safe.

The initial shock left Sirius like a cool breeze, and then there was only anger. His hand reached up before he could even think about it, grasping around Remus’s neck and pushing him back against the wall. Remus was taller, and no doubt stronger, too, and he could’ve pushed Sirius off of him. Remus’s hand tightened around Sirius’s wrist, but he didn’t push him away.

They stood close, Sirius breathing heavily and Remus barely breathing at all under Sirius’s tight grip. He loosened his grip but didn’t step away.

”One show,” he said coldly, staring into Remus’s green eyes. And perhaps then, he felt the same betrayal that Remus felt when he stared into Sirius’s blue. ”One show, then I want you gone.”

”One show,” came Remus’s promise, echoing hoarsely between the four walls of the small studio.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a kind of long chapter with a few flashbacks and one big, big revelation.

Mistakes only seem like mistakes after they have happened and clarity only comes in the wake of a disaster.

What had happened that late October five years ago was Sirius’s biggest mistake and the most devastating disaster in his life. He had had reoccurring dreams, nightmares really, about the events since he saw Remus for the first time since it had happened. Every night he’d wake up sweaty and breathing hard, tears pricking at his eyes and the overwhelming guilt threatening to drown him. The worst part of his nightmares was that they weren’t just nightmares, they were memories.

”What is this?” Sirius had asked, spread across Remus’s bed in their shared dorm room, back when things had still been good. Remus, who had his nose stuck in a book, didn’t look up. He’d heard the rattling of his pills, and even if he hadn’t, he was used to the question by now.

”Medicine,” he had replied casually.

”I’m not _dumb_ , Moony,” Sirius had groaned and Remus had looked up from his book, his green eyes finding Sirius’s. He had put the book down and leaned closer, plucking the pills from Sirius’s hand and placed them back on his bedside table. ”What are they for?” Sirius had pushed, curiously.

Remus had sighed, finally sitting back down on his bed. He had been close to Sirius, his legs curled in under him and his knees barely brushing against Sirius’s chest.

”For pain,” Remus had said as if it was nothing at all. As if everyone had a bottle of pills by their bed for mysterious pains.

”Pain?” Sirius had asked, blinking up at Remus, who had smiled and rolled his eyes.

”You sure you aren’t dumb, Pads? Yes, pain. That’s what I said,” Remus had laughed and retreated to his side of the bed. James was out for practice and Peter – who seemed more obsessed with James than James was with Lily – had, of course, followed.

At the age of sixteen, Sirius had been more than familiar with pain. And it wasn’t unusual that he would handle it the way Remus did; with a shrug and a laugh. It had ached in him, though, knowing that Remus suffered.

”I didn’t know you were in pain,” Sirius had mumbled and looked down, his hand brushing anxiously over Remus’s bed covers. There were small crumbs of the chocolate they had shared, in bed, even though Sirius hated getting the sheets stained. Remus had fallen down on his back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. He had sighed, again, and tilted his head to look at Sirius. There was a strange expression on his face then; something that was unfamiliar to Sirius five years ago, but that he now knew more than well. _Sadness_.

”Because I don’t like talking about it,” Remus had said quietly as if those words were hard enough to say.

”You don’t have to, either, I didn’t mean to be pushy… I was just… wondering, you know?”

”I know,” Remus had smiled softly, ”it’s all you ever do.”

”So,” Sirius had smiled back, pushing himself up on his elbows so that he had been leaning over Remus. ”Are you going to tell me about it, or would you rather keep your mysterious charm?”

”Am I to believe you’re actually giving me that choice? You, Sirius _curious_ Black?” Remus had asked, amused. Sirius had thought he’d seen Remus’s eyes flicker down to his lips as he smiled, but then, it might have just been his imagination. It had been running particularly wild in the months prior, ever since the start of that school year, really.

”Remus,” he had said quietly, eyebrows furrowed, ”you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me. I’ll just always be here to listen when, or _if_ , you ever do want to.” And Remus had smiled again; that bright, warm smile that reminded Sirius of the sun.

”I know,” he had said and leaned up to tuck a strand of Sirius’s black curls behind his ear, his hand lingering just over Sirius’s skin for a moment before he pulled back. Sirius wondered if Remus had been able to feel his pulse then, beating hard in his ears. ”But I want to, Sirius. I want you to know,” he had said then.

Sirius’s breath had hitched in his throat and he had looked down at Remus, waiting for him to continue. He hadn’t dared to say a word, barely dared to draw another breath in fear that whatever spell was on them at that moment would have evaporated. That Remus would have pulled away at the final moment like he had so many times before. But he hadn’t.

”You know how I have my scars?” Remus had asked, and Sirius had nodded quietly. He had always been more than aware of Remus’s scars, stretched out over his freckled skin like pale strips of moonlight. He had dreamt about running his fingers over them more times than he would like to admit, considered kissing them every time he caught a glimpse of them. Sirius had done his best to push those thoughts away, instead returning his focus to whatever it was Remus had been about to tell him.

”They’re from surgeries,” Remus had explained, and his voice had gotten even quieter. Sirius had blinked dumbly at the word’s plural form. _Surgeries_. _Multiple of them._ ”I’ve been in and out of the hospital since I’ve been around five. The doctors… they don’t really know what it is, but let’s just say they’ve been snooping around my insides a whole lot trying to find whatever _it_ is.” And he had laughed again, but it hadn’t exactly been a happy laugh.

Sirius hadn’t known what to say, so he hadn’t said anything at all. Usually, he would hate silence, because usually, silence had meant anger. But it never had with Remus. Not back then.

”I suppose that means that if they do find out what it is, they’re gonna name it after me and I’ll be famous,” Remus had said finally, and they had both burst out laughing.

It was the week of the show; anticipation filled the small studio every evening and they were, much to Sirius’s resentment, playing better than they ever had. And of course, it was all thanks to Remus, who just couldn’t stop being the textbook example of _perfection._

Anticipation – and in Sirius’s case; a whole lot of anxiety. He was losing sleep over nightmares and it was making him uncharacteristically jumpy. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent when he looked himself in the mirror, but he hid them expertly with black eyeliner. He went through his cigarette packets quicker than ever and he would drown his throat in water during every rehearsal to get rid of the itch it caused. No one seemed to care, and if they did, they didn’t confront him about it.

But it was fine. One show and Remus would be gone. Then everything could go back to how they used to be. Back to normal.

Their last rehearsal was that Thursday night. It was storming outside the small studio, the lights would flicker every now and then, the wind and thunder accompanying the music they were playing. When the power cut out the final time, they lit candles and carried on, acoustically.

Sirius felt a bit uncertain without his microphone like there was nothing to hide behind. Singing suddenly felt more intimate, and Sirius’s eyes couldn’t stop drifting to Remus, sitting opposite him on a stool, bass gently cradled in his lap.

Remus’s hair was drying curlier than it usually was and he was looking down so that it fell into his face. He was concentrating on the strings of his bass more than Sirius knew he really needed to.

Mary had suggested a ballad, arguing that it fit the atmosphere of the studio better. Sirius had complained, arguing instead that the powerful bass and banging drums only sounded so much cooler with the background thunder. But there they were, playing a slow, lovely ballad.

Sirius felt his throat clench around the words, looking at Remus. He had sung like this for him back then, and it had always felt more like the words were slipping from his heart, rather than his lips.

”Sirius,” Remus had smiled gently, and his hand had found the dark curl of Sirius’s hair, twisting it around his finger before he had let it fall behind Sirius’s ear. Sirius’s mouth had formed into a smile around the words he had been singing, looking deeply into Remus’s half-lidded green eyes. 

It had been summer before their fifth year and everything had been perfectly fine. More than fine, really. They were all at James’s, being completely and utterly spoiled by his parents’ generosity and Sirius had never felt more at home.

On one of the rare occasions that Sirius had found himself alone with Remus, he had put on James’s record player and sung for Remus, if only to see the other boy smile the way he had back then.

James had seemed to own exclusively soppy love songs back then when his obsessive crush on Lily Evans was starting to mature into something that would one day be the purest love Sirius had ever seen. Sirius had put on a dramatic show, dancing around the bedroom with his hands pressed to his chest and belting out the lyrics in Remus’s direction, always in Remus’s direction. And Remus had smiled and blushed, so sweetly that Sirius thought it was perhaps then his dedication to becoming a musician had really started.

He had attempted to grab Remus’s wrists exactly twice in an attempt to make him dance with him, but Remus had shaken his head and laughed until Sirius had given up and fallen on the bed with him instead.

The song was ending, the bedroom getting quieter once more with the exception of the two boys’ steady breathing. And, if it was as loud as it was in his own ears, Sirius’s stubborn heartbeat.

”I’m so lucky to have you, I won’t ever have to pay for concert tickets ever in my life for as long as I have you,” Remus had said, and Sirius’s had grinned like a fool. He had wondered if Remus meant those words in the way that he had hoped that he did; promising him a forever.

”I’m even luckier,” Sirius had replied, ”to have such a devoted fan.” And Remus had laughed, _again_ , the bubbly laugh that gave Sirius butterflies. It had tugged at Sirius’s lips, and he had felt his face might rip in half with how hard he had been smiling.

Sirius had fallen back on the bed, next to Remus and looking up at the ceiling, but he had been able to feel Remus’s eyes on him still.

”You’re a good singer,” Remus had mumbled softly. When Sirius had turned his head, he had found that Remus had already been looking at him. They had been close, so close that Sirius had been able to feel Remus’s breath against his skin.

Remus had reached his hand out, soft fingertips gracing over the skin of Sirius’s cheek. There had been stillness around them like Sirius had never felt it before for the moment before they had leaned in even closer. Remus’s lips had brushed against Sirius’s, uncertain for a moment before Sirius had kissed him back. They had kissed for the first time, and Sirius had instantly become addicted to the feeling of Remus’s sweet lips on his.

Remus wouldn’t even look up at him as they played, but Sirius was wondering if he wasn’t remembering the same thing as he did then. It felt like a million years, a million lifetimes between the teenagers they had been and the adults they were now. But every kiss Sirius had had since that first one with Remus had reminded him of the memory, hoping to recreate that same longing feeling but never finding it again. He was sure he never would, and he had accepted that a long time ago.

But it was wildly different with Remus actually sitting in front of him again, all soft curls and harsh anger. He was just within reach, but Sirius knew he would never be able to reach him through all those walls, all that pain and all those memories. This truth, however, was much harder to accept.

He had convinced himself that he could live without Remus Lupin in his life. He had had to, after what had happened. And it had been easier because Remus Lupin hadn’t actually _been_ in his life. He was now, and that made it so much more difficult.

”I think we’re perfect,” Marlene said excitedly, ”the show is going to be brilliant.” Mary nodded in agreement, and Remus, for the first time in what felt like years, looked up from his bass strings. He offered a small smile, not quite genuine, and stood up, rolling his shoulders and stretching his fingers so that his knuckles cracked.

”Drinks?” Mary suggested, ”I think we bloody deserve them.”

”I can’t–” Remus began, prepared to pull his usual excuse; he had somewhere to be, but Sirius interrupted him.

”Why not?” he asked casually, leaning back in his seat to observe the horrified expression on Remus’s face as he struggled to piece together an acceptable reason.

”Because,” he began, and started putting away his bass to buy himself some more time. He didn’t have to when Mary – ever the sweetheart – piped up again.

”I’ll even pay for your drinks! Remus, please come with us?”

Sirius kept his eyes on Remus as he all but physically twisted his way out of the generous offer. No one could say no to Mary Macdonald, Remus must have learnt as much by now.

”I don’t need you to, thanks anyway though,” he said, scratching the back of his neck in a gesture Sirius remembered from their boarding school years as Remus’s nervous quirk. ”I have other places to be,” he added, most likely just for good measure.

”Another busy man,” Mary sighed disappointedly. Remus, despite himself, actually chuckled, and it was a sound that Sirius hadn’t dared dream of hearing ever again in his life. He found himself holding his breath.

”Alright, alright,” Remus said, recovering from his laugh, but just like he had when they were younger, he stubbornly pushed on, talking through it. ”I’ll come with, but only because I would hate to disappoint my bandmates.”

Remus looked up at Sirius then, for the first time in over a week, and the look on his face was clear and for Sirius’s eyes only.

They tidied the studio and crammed into Mary’s red Fort Cortina; Marlene with Sirius in the back seat and Remus in the exclusive passenger’s seat. Sirius stayed quiet the whole car ride, despite Marlene’s attempts to start a conversation with him. Mary chatted to Remus in the front, and Sirius couldn’t help but notice how he made her laugh with his intelligent humour. And he tried his best to convince himself that it was not at all jealousy that stung so vigorously in his chest then.

Sirius had always had Remus’s back, protecting him from the cruel boarding school bullies both physically and verbally. If only he had known then, that he would be the one to hurt Remus the worst in the end. 

He hadn’t been able to avert his eyes when Remus had pulled his shirt over his head in their small dorm room, even with the other boys around. He hadn’t been able to look away from the scars that stretched over Remus’s skin, not since he had learned about how they had got there.

Neither had he been able to stop himself from staring whenever Remus had swallowed his medicine, pushing them dry down his throat.

When he had found himself in Remus’s bed that weekend, his hand had absentmindedly gravitated towards the pills. Sirius had turned the bottle around in his hands, listening to the rattle as the pills fell from the bottom to the lid, and then back to the bottom again when he had flipped it between his fingers.

Remus’s eyes had been closed, his cheek pressed against Sirius’s bare chest. To anyone else, it might have looked like he had been sleeping, but Sirius had known Remus’s sleeping breaths, he had known their slow and steady rhythm.

”How many of these do you have to take?” Sirius had asked curiously. Remus hadn’t stirred from his comfortable position, but Sirius had felt how his mouth opened and how his lips had brushed against Sirius’s skin as he spoke.

”Three every day,” Remus had replied sleepily. Sirius had looked down at him, his free hand coming down to brush gently through Remus’s soft hair.

”What happens if you don’t?” he had asked then, and Remus had blinked his eyes open very slowly to look up at Sirius.

”I don’t know, really,” he had admitted, ”I haven’t been without them for quite some time. I know better what it’s like if I accidentally take _too many_ , though.”

”What happens then?” Sirius had asked, and Remus’s face had split up in a big grin.

”The same as when you drink too much vodka, you fucking _lunatic._ ” Remus had laughed, and Sirius had done the same, rolling his eyes and pretending he was actually insulted by the statement.

”Oh, Loony Lupin, is it then?” Sirius had teased and Remus had pouted.

”Don’t call me that,” he had said, his pout growing childishly big on his face, and Sirius had just _had_ to kiss it away. Had it been anyone else, they probably wouldn’t have gotten away with it that easily, but Remus had melted into Sirius’s kiss and he had been forgiven. And Sirius hadn’t yet done anything unforgivable to the boy who rested his head so carefully on Sirius’s chest, who smiled so gently when it was just the two of them, who kissed so softly when he was tired and content.

Perhaps Sirius should have known then, that good things weren’t meant to last in his life. That content was not a feeling he was allowed to feel for a moment too long.

But at that moment, there was nothing that would have been able to prepare him for the look on Remus’s face just a week later. That his sleepy eyes would be red with tears, his mouth a straight line where there had once been a bright smile and every ounce of softness had been erased and replaced with hurt and anger.

Sirius had betrayed him in so many more ways than one, that autumn five years ago. Remus had trusted him, opened up and shown vulnerability when he had told Sirius about his medication, his surgeries and his scars. And Sirius had taken that trust and crumbled it in a reckless act of revenge toward the person who had caused Remus the most pain up until that moment, inevitably putting that crown on his own head instead. And he wore it heavy.

He remembered how Remus had clutched his empty bottle of pills in his shaking hand, so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Sirius remembered wanting so desperately to take it all back then, but knowing deep down that it was all too late.

The prank had already been played, and Severus Snape had already been tucked into a bed in the hospital wing with a bucket beside his bed and a large, bloody bandage wrapped around his head.

And it hadn’t been Remus’s fault, even though he had stood there before his friends and Sirius, bags packed and ready to leave. Expelled. For something Sirius had done.

But Sirius’s lips had been helplessly shut, too afraid, too _selfish_ to speak up and admit what he had done. Lift the blame from Remus’s shoulders and take it, rightfully, upon himself instead.

Because he had known that it wasn’t true. He had known that Remus hadn’t given Severus Snape too many of his pills and caused him to stumble around the school in a drunken manner late the night before, hitting his head hard and cracking his skull open, but miraculously surviving the blow.

He had known that it wasn’t Remus, because it had been him. _He_ had methodically crushed the pills, _he_ had sneakily mixed them into Snape’s food at dinner, and _he_ had caused this big mess. He just hadn’t expected Snape to hit his head and get so badly hurt; Remus had only told him that it would be like when he had had too much to drink and Sirius had only expected Snape to be embarrassingly buzzed in front of the school.

He hadn’t expected Remus to be expelled. He hadn’t expected to lose Remus. Not then, not _ever_. Remus had promised him forever, and Sirius had desperately clung to that promise he had turned himself blind to mistakes.

He hadn’t expected bumps on his forever-road with Remus, and that had been much more than a bump. That had been the end of the road, and Sirius was lost in the middle of nowhere.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's showtime, baby!

The bar was obnoxiously loud and Sirius was slowly developing a headache from the second he stepped a foot inside.

The five tall glasses of mediocre cocktails he had been downing weren’t precisely helping, either. At least not with the headache. But Sirius always found himself growing rather talkative after a few drinks, which meant he could at the very least speak a few words to Remus. Not nearly enough to actually uphold a conversation; in fact, he was barely even springing together proper sentences, but at least they were _speaking._

Unfortunately, Mary and Marlene took this as their chance of getting to know Remus better, and _of course,_ that meant interrogating him about his past. A past they knew Sirius had belonged in, at some point, thanks to Lily’s drunken indiscretion.

Even worse, perhaps, was Remus’s willingness to share; his eagerness to let Mary and Marlene in on every devilish detail of their boarding school years and the tales of all their mischievous pranks. 

Remus was still struggling to breathe from his last burst of laughter, telling some story of one of the million occasions where James had embarrassed himself in front of half of the school. Mary and Marlene were all the same; laughing until there were tears in the corners of their eyes. Only Sirius sat quietly with his drink in hand, wishing he was a million miles away from this conversation; from Remus altogether.

”Don’t you have any mortifying stories about our dear Sirius over here? I’d so love to hear if he was as much of a knob back then as he is now,” Mary said and her tone was meant to be teasing, but Sirius tensed immediately and the laughter died on Remus’s lips.

There were a few moments of awkward silence and Mary leaned back, furrowing her brows at the sudden tension in the air.

”I have plenty of stories, but we all better be wasted enough to not remember them in the morning before I start spilling,” Remus replied smoothly. Sirius looked up and caught Remus’s eyes for a moment before he looked away.

”So let’s order another round!” Marlene laughed. And they did, and then another one, and another one. Until they were all drunk enough to stumble if they were to stand from their seats.

But Sirius knew there was no amount of alcohol that could ever make him forget anything about Remus; he had tried, helplessly, for a long time. And the memories stuck like stubborn glue in his mind, no matter how hard he’d tried to scrape them away. Remus’s teary eyes. The bottle of prescription pills. His soft lips on Sirius’s own. His hands, his hair, his laugh, his freckles. _Him_. It was the worst kind of torture, and Sirius did believe he knew proper torture.

”Alright,” Remus started, slurring the words together slightly as he spoke. He placed his hands firmly on the tabletop, looking at Mary and Marlene. ”Your beloved Sirius over here likes to present himself as a god among men, and don’t get me wrong,” Remus looked over at Sirius and _smirked_ , ”in many ways, he definitely is, but–”

Sirius was struggling to keep breathing normally because, oh god, Remus Lupin had smirked at him and called him a god among men. The sounds of the loud bar seemed to be drowned out, not even Remus’s words cut through the thick air as he continued the embarrassing story. All Sirius could do was sit there and stare; watch as Remus’s lips moved as if in slow-motion and wonder; wonder if maybe, just maybe, Remus didn’t hate him so much after all.

Mary’s loud laugh was what finally pulled Sirius back to reality and he blinked quickly, looking away from Remus finally.

”You did that?” she wheezed and wiped a couple of tears from the corners of her eyes, still laughing.

”Did what?” Sirius asked innocently.

”Oh my _god_ , you definitely did!” Marlene exclaimed.

Sirius looked over at Remus, who only shrugged casually and took another sip of his drink while Sirius panicked and wondered about the severity of Remus’s tale. Bad enough to render both Mary and Marlene practically speechless with laughter, but not bad enough to make them hate his guts. Well then, game on.

”Whatever I did or didn’t do, it can’t be worse than Remus’s fourth-year embarrassment,” he began, glancing over at Remus.

”Please don’t–”

”Please _do!_ ” Mary insisted.

And so, Sirius began telling the tale of how Remus had confused him with Severus Snape during their fourth-year formal ball and extensively (and quite romantically) asked him to dance. And how both of them were too stubborn to admit their mistake – which led to Remus waltzing around the ballroom with Snape in his arms for three full minutes; both of them looking quite green around the gills once the spectacle was over with.

”If anything, that’s just embarrassing for you,” Remus huffed and took a sip of his drink, but Sirius could tell that it was just so that he could hide his flushed cheeks.

”Insulting, yes, but personally I’ve never had as much fun as I did watching you fondle Snivellus’s waist.”

”I did not _fondle!”_ Remus barked.

”How did you even mistake him for me?” Sirius asked; if only to watch as Remus’s face grew redder.

”You do kind of have the same hairstyle, from the back, I mean,” Remus replied, picking at the label of his beer bottle.

”That’s outrageous! You can not mean that _I_ have the same horrible hair as Snivellus!”

”I was drunk!”

”That’s just a bad excuse, Remus.”

”It was dark,” Remus tried again.

”Horrendous, atrocious, _ghastly_ excuse, Remus.”

”I _was_ drunk and it _was_ dark, those aren’t excuses!”

Sirius huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes. ”If that was the case, how come I could perfectly make out every detail in your eyes; every freckle on your skin?” he asked and wished he could take the words back as soon as they had left his lips. But of course, that was impossible. Damn Sirius’s inability to just _shut up_ after a few drinks.

Remus, stunned, stared at him for a moment before he shook his head, the mischief returning to his eyes.

”Now _that’s_ embarrassing for you.”

”At least I care enough about my friends to not mix them up with their worst enemy.”

”Oh, do you now,” Remus said, and his voice was no longer as playful as it had been just moments earlier. Sirius sighed and stood up, pushing out of his seat.

”I’m having a cigarette,” he declared and walked quickly towards the bar’s exit. He pushed the door open and was able to enjoy one short moment of the fresh air and silence before his peace was interrupted.

”Sirius,” Remus spoke from behind him. Sirius shut his eyes and took a deep breath, shaking fingers searching for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. Why did his smoke breaks always have to be interrupted by someone who wanted to talk some sense into him?

”What?” Sirius spat back without turning to face Remus. He grumpily sat down on the pavement, a cigarette between his lips and his lighter shielded from the wind in both his hands. He struggled to keep the flame alive long enough to light the cigarette.

Remus sat down next to him and Sirius made a whole show of sighing pointedly at him. He wanted to be alone, couldn’t Remus see that?

”You said we could be professional, but you’re not acting very professional now, are you?”

”Piss off.”

”Right. Just my point,” Remus sighed. ”Is it possible for you to act like an adult for just two minutes?”

”I am an adult,” Sirius said and turned to him, ”therefore, my acts are that of an adult.” He looked back to his cigarette, which still wouldn’t light. ”What do you want?”

There was a light in the corner of Sirius’s eye as Remus had lit his own lighter and held it out for Sirius. Sirius reluctantly lit his cigarette on Remus’s lighter before he brought it back to his lips, inhaling deeply.

”I want a lot of things,” Remus began and lit his own cigarette quickly. Sirius pointedly avoided looking at him; at his long fingers curled around the cigarette; at his lips, as they formed around it; at his eyelashes as his eyes fluttered closed when he exhaled the smoke into the dark night. ”And I think, deep down, you want a lot of the same things.”

”Like what?”

There was quiet for a moment between them, and Sirius could feel Remus’s eyes on him; studying him in the same way as Sirius avoided to study Remus.

”Success. Happiness. Peace on Earth and all of that bullshit,” he said first, and then, ”to move on from things that happened years and years ago.”

”I– I can’t do that, Remus.” Sirius sighed again, puffing a big cloud of smoke between the two of them. Remus did the same; the smoke he exhaled from his lungs mixed with that from Sirius’s.

”Because of me,” Remus asked, ”or because of _you_?”

Sirius furrowed his brows and looked at Remus, finding that he was already looking at Sirius, head tilted and a cigarette hanging from his lips.

”Both,” Sirius said decisively, keeping eye contact for the first time that night. And it didn’t feel so terrible to do so either. ”You won’t ever forgive me, Remus, I know that. And if you can’t forgive me, how am I meant to forgive myself?”

”James forgave, didn’t he?” Remus asked.

”Yes, but that’s James. He’s stubbornly loyal and annoyingly perfect,” Sirius replied and Remus huffed a laugh, nodding his head slowly as he turned to stare straight ahead. Sirius watched him still; watched his fingers move around the cigarette, bringing it to his lips and then down again, how he exhaled slowly, how his lips stayed parted even after they no longer breathed smoke.

”Yes, that’s James.” Remus tilted his head and smiled sadly at Sirius. There was a sting of pain and Sirius looked away quickly. He couldn’t keep eye contact with Remus for longer than a couple of seconds before he felt tears burning in his eyes. ”You’re lucky to have him, you know? And Peter, too. When I left… well, I didn’t really have anyone left. Not like I had you all those years, at least.”

”I’m sorry,” Sirius said quietly, his voice not capable of much more than a whisper. ”That’s my fault, Remus.”

”Yes,” Remus agreed and his voice had lost its volume, too. ”But you were right, too. The other week. What you said; how I can’t blame you for my failures.” And there was the familiar yet strange feeling of Remus’s eyes on him again and it lured Sirius in; he couldn’t avoid it. He looked at Remus, furrowing his brows.

”I don’t blame you for blaming me. Really,” he said.

”I know you don’t, Sirius,” Remus said and his voice was strangely gentle. It made Sirius’s insides twist in a particularly nasty way. ”You were always so quick to take the blame, back then. But not when it mattered. Not when I needed you to.”

Sirius’s cigarette had burned down by then and he put it out against the asphalt. It was all so quiet, only the music from the bar behind them to tell that time was still moving as it should. Sirius stood up and brushed his hands against his jeans in an attempt to get the blood flowing. Remus stood too, his knees sounding like they belonged on an old man and not someone Sirius’s age.

”One show,” Remus repeated their agreement and attempted an encouraging smile in Sirius’s direction.

”Yeah.” Sirius nodded. ”One show.” Then Remus would be gone and Sirius would spend another eternity trying to forget him again. It was only the weekend and then Sirius would be free of feeling like he was choking on his own lungs whenever he was in the same room as Remus. Just one show, and then things would go back to being as normal as things could be in Sirius Black’s life. One show.

Sirius found it strangely easy to fall back into his usual pre-show routine that Saturday morning. He woke early and went for a run through a London that was still sleeping trough last night’s hangover. James met him for lunch at noon and then they walked back to Sirius’s apartment to discuss his outfit for the night; James always had plenty of suggestions, Sirius always settled for black jeans and some scandalously revealing top. James left an hour later and Sirius got into the shower before he made his way to the venue.

Mary and Marlene, of course, were already there when Sirius got there, but to his surprise, Remus wasn’t.

”Have you heard from him?” Mary asked.

”No?” Sirius asked, brows furrowed, ”why would _I_ have heard from him?” Mary tutted at him but didn’t answer. She left him alone then, as aware of his routine as James was.

Sirius liked to be alone before shows. Though he didn’t like to show it, he always had a lot of nerves and he knew he could be quite obnoxious if his peace was interrupted then. So his bandmates left him to his own devices for as long as possible before they got on stage.

He sat alone in his room, trying tirelessly to style his hair in a way that would communicate the highest level of rock’n’roll and class. He heard voices, Marlene’s drumming (she liked to warm up her wrists, she had told him while simultaneously trying to convince him to warm up, too) and Mary’s high heels as they paced back and forth in the hallway just outside.

”What’s with all the nervous energy, Macdonald?” Sirius asked and popped his head out of the door. She stopped and turned to face Sirius, an unreadable expression on her face.

”It’s Remus. He still hasn’t shown up, and no one can get a hold of him,” she said and it hit Sirius that she looked panicked. Mary liked to have situations under control and this was turning out to be a situation she had no control over whatsoever. ”We’re about to go on stage in forty-five and we don’t even know if our bassist is alive.”

Sirius stepped out into the hallway and quickly moved toward her, grabbing her by the shoulders so that she would look up at him.

”Alright, calm down. I’m sure he’s alive and well,” Sirius said, though he didn’t quite believe his own words. In all the years that Sirius had known him, Remus had never been late. And it had seemed like he hadn’t dropped his time optimistic habits in the years they had been parted either. So it was strange that he was nowhere to be found.

”Let’s rationalise this, shall we?” Sirius suggested and Mary nodded, taking a deep breath. Sirius nodded, too, before he continued: ”Remus doesn’t have his own car, so maybe he’s just running late because London is a shit place to commute to, on a Saturday night, nonetheless.”

”Yeah,” Mary nodded again, ”he’ll be here.”

”He’ll be here,” Sirius echoed and smiled at her, ”and you’ll rock the stage with that eyeshadow, Macdonald, you look amazing.” She smiled at him and reached up to fix his hair.

”You too,” she said.

Someone cleared their throat further down the hall, and they both turned quickly to the source of the sound. Remus stood by the door, his bass on his bag and his light brown curls styled on his head, dressed in a _Black Sabbath_ shirt with a denim jacket over. He met Sirius’s eyes for a moment before Mary rushed forward and slapped his arm.

”I thought you bailed on us, Lupin!” she accused him, but her voice held no real anger. Remus huffed a laugh and shook his head so that his curls bounced in a way that was nearly hypnotising.

”Never,” he promised her and glanced to Sirius again.

Sirius groaned and walked back into his room without as much as a word to Remus. _One show, one show, one show,_ echoed endlessly in his brain and he missed to notice when there was a gentle knock on his door.

”Sirius,” said Remus’s familiar voice. Sirius looked up, meeting Remus’s eyes through the mirror. It wasn’t any easier. ”Can I have a word with you, please? Mary said to better leave you alone before a show, but I… well, there’s something I’d like to get out of my system before we, you know, never see each other again.”

Sirius waved nonchalantly for Remus to come inside and he did, closing the door behind him. Sirius watched as he leaned against it, how he fumbled with his hands and scratched the back of his neck nervously.

”Out with it,” Sirius ordered grumpily and looked back down at his desk, pretending to be looking at something important as to avoid Remus’s eyes. He heard Remus move closer behind him and when he looked up again, Remus stood just behind his chair.

”I just have to know,” Remus said and his voice was gentle and just loud enough for Sirius to hear, ”do you ever think about it? What we had, what we _were_ , I mean.”

”Do you?” Sirius asked, fully not expecting Remus to answer.

”More than I like to admit,” he said. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck, again. It was becoming an alarming shade of red. ”I know things aren’t the same way as they were back then but sometimes… sometimes I feel like they are, you know? Sometimes, when I look into your eyes, it’s like a time machine and I forget everything bad, all the hurt and awful.”

Sirius nodded helplessly, swallowing though his throat was dry.

”I do too,” he admitted. A moment’s silence passed between them and then Sirius turned around in his chair, facing Remus properly. ”Remus…”

”Sirius,” Remus said and it broke Sirius’s heart to hear his name like that again; Remus’s soft accent manoeuvring the sounds in such a delicate way that made it sound like music; with such a gentle tone that it could only ever be a love song.

And then Remus leaned down and pressed their lips together, his hand moving to gently stroke the skin of Sirius’s cheek for a moment before he pulled away; going as suddenly as he had come. Sirius had shut his eyes instinctively and could only listen as Remus walked away from him without another word, without another touch.

He sat like that, trying to process what had happened until Mary popped her head in to tell him it was time. _Showtime_. The one show, the final show. And Remus had just kissed him and Sirius’s head was a bigger mess than the scrambled eggs he had for breakfast that morning. But they played good, better than they had ever played in their lives because Remus was there.

The crowd cheered while Sirius’s heart wept in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone is interested in some updates on when I'm writing this fic, or just seeing me sob over wolfstar, I have a twitter you are more than welcome to follow! it's @phantomdumpster. I'm very friendly, I promise :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the delay on this chapter, life sort of got in the way. I hope you like it though!

Remus had kissed him.

Sirius was still struggling to convince himself it had been entirely real. It surely felt surreal; having Remus’s soft lips pressed against his own if only for a short, short moment. It made Sirius want. He wanted so many things that his heart ached with it all.

The last deep tone of Remus’s bass, amplified by the loud speakers, echoed through the venue. Sirius was breathing hard, not sure he had even been able to catch his breath since Remus stole it from him. The crowd was loud, and Sirius was able to catch James’s eyes for a moment. His best friend, grinning from ear to ear was giving him two thumbs up and looked like, had he owned more than just one pair of thumbs, he would’ve given those as well. Sirius smiled.

”Thank you,” he said into the microphone, and he sounded breathless. Somewhere in the crowd, he could hear James yell for one more song, but Sirius took his bow and waved at the crowd before joining the rest of the band on their way off stage. He fell in line behind Remus, who looked over his shoulder and smiled. Remus’s cheeks were flushed red, his lip red where he had bitten down on it in concentration, and his hair messier than ever from the show he had put on head-banging to the beat.

A man, tall and broad-shouldered, stood leaning against the wall of the backstage area when the band came off stage.

”Bloody brilliant show,” he said and smirked, showing a set of yellowing teeth. He pushed himself off the wall and walked closer, extending his hand in a greeting. ”The name’s Greyback,” said the man, ”I work for _Crescent_ , you’ve heard of them?”

They all nodded quietly. They had all heard of _Crescent_ , everyone in the music industry with some ambition to become something had heard of _Crescent_ : one of the biggest production companies with the practically magical ability to turn anyone famous overnight. Not to mention the festival they organised each year where the very best bands were invited to play in front of crowds of thousands of people.

The festival had been a very sacred dream of Sirius’s for many years now; one that he barely dared utter out loud in case it would somehow keep it from coming true. It was the very measure of success, and Sirius knew he would never be satisfied until he stood on one of those stages; pouring his heart out in song.

”We’d love to bring you on for the tour we’re arranging, and then, perhaps, we can see about getting you on board for the festivals as well,” Greyback said, and Sirius felt dizzy. He looked over at Marlene and Mary, who looked just about as shocked as he felt. He did not dare look in Remus’s direction.

”Really?” Sirius heard himself say, still not believing it, ”I mean- I mean, of course! Fuck. We’d love to!” The girls nodded along excitedly, but Remus remained quiet.

Remus wasn’t going. The realisation hit Sirius like a punch to the face. They had their promise of one show and no more, and there was just no way he’d stay around for a whole tour, much less until the festival.

”We’ll have to discuss it privately, obviously,” Sirius added quickly, and cleared his throat in an attempt to rid himself of the thick lump that was slowly forming there.

”Of course,” said the man, and flashed them a smile that wasn’t exactly nice. ”It’s a bit of a last-minute call, however. One of our bands cancelled earlier this week and with such short notice it’s hard to find young bands eager to drop everything and hop on a plane, you know?”

Greyback pushed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, which looked nothing like the salary he surely was making. ”Just let me know by the end of the week, and you’ll be alright.” He pulled out a small card with the Crescent logo and a telephone number on it, pushed it into Sirius's hand and disappeared so quickly Sirius didn’t even have time to look up from the business card before the door slammed shut.

”Oh my _god_ ,” Marlene said breathlessly. ”Crescent! Oh my _god!”_ Sirius nodded, turning the business card between his fingers. Marlene continued, a little more suspicious: ”Why didn’t you just say yes? What even is there to discuss?”

”Sirius, you’ve wanted this for as long as I’ve known you, probably even longer than that,” Mary began, and she sounded more concerned than anything else. ”Why are you hesitating?” She placed a gentle hand on Sirius’s arm and he met her eyes.

Remus cleared his throat.

”We should talk.”

Remus held the door open for them, meeting Sirius’s eyes as he passed through the doorway, looking at him with an expression that cut through Sirius’s heart like shards of glass.

Mary and Marlene took their seats on the small sofa while Sirius remained standing, back pressed against the wall as if it was the only thing that kept him upright.

”I’m not staying,” Remus said, ripping the bandaid off quickly. And it stung, even though Sirius already knew.

”What?” Mary asked, already halfway out of the sofa, but Remus gestured for her to remain seated.

”I- I can’t stay,” he said, ”no matter how much I’d love to.” His eyes flickered to Sirius for a moment, and Sirius found himself particularly thankful for the firm wall behind his back.

”Why?” Marlene asked, and she sounded angry. She had all the right to be, Sirius thought. Their dreams were about to become real, thanks to Remus, and now he was leaving. She and Mary deserved the truth, the reason behind their suddenly shattered dreams, but Sirius’s tongue weighed heavily in his mouth.

Remus was quiet, scratching the back of his neck and struggling to find the right words. He shouldn’t have to, Sirius thought, but remained quiet.

”I’ve got some health issues,” Remus said, and the lie sounded so close to the truth it actually quite shocked Sirius to hear it. ”It wouldn’t be smart of me to go on tour, I’d only be a burden.”

”Remus, darling,” Mary said softly and stood up, quickly moving across the floor in her high heels and wrapping her arms around Remus. He looked uncomfortable for a moment before he hugged her back, bending down low to wrap his arms around her. ”I’m so sorry. Are you sure there’s nothing we can do?”

Remus laughed humourlessly and let go of her. ”No, I’m afraid not,” he said, ”it’s just the way my life is, I suppose.” Sirius felt like he could throw up.

”So what?” Marlene asked, still aggravated, ”come on, Remus, you said you wouldn’t bail on us! You promised!”

”I’m sorry,” Remus said, ”it’s the way it is.”

Remus looked at Sirius, Sirius could feel his eyes on him, but he didn’t look up from where he was fidgeting with the business card in his hands. He felt as though everything he had ever wanted was slipping right through his fingers, again, and his chest was heavy with guilt. He could not stand around and let it happen. Not again.

”It doesn’t have to be that way, though,” Sirius said, ”I mean, we should help each other, should we not? We can help you, Remus, and you can help us.”

”How can I be of any help to you?” Remus asked.

”You play the bass like a god,” Sirius shrugged, ”keep doing that and we’ll let you stick around.” Remus huffed, but then caught himself and offered a polite, business-like smile instead. Professionals; that’s what they had to be.

”You’ll have me, then?” he asked. Sirius nodded solemnly, and far too quickly. _Professional._

”Of course we will!” Mary laughed, ”and not only for your god-like musical abilities; I, for one, think you’re a lovely person, too.” Remus’s cheeks took a warm shade of red and he smiled brighter than Sirius had seen in many years.

It was not going to be easy, Sirius realised, having Remus around, but perhaps not for the same reasons he had first thought.

Marlene walked up to Sirius and plucked the business card from his hands. ”I’ll take care of this,” she said, ”I have a feeling you’ll go all starstruck and stupid if you take it upon yourself to make the call.”

Sirius tried to snatch it back, but gave up rather quickly. Partly because Marlene was right, and partly because he was still feeling completely and utterly intoxicated with Remus’s smile, and it seemed to affect his reactivity just as badly as booze did.

And then, suddenly, she had left the room, and Mary had gone with her, and it was just him and Remus left, alone. Sirius didn’t dare move, barely dared take a breath too loud. His head was spinning with the kiss, the show, the tour and the pounding of his heart that was repeating the same words over and over again: _Remus is staying. Remus is staying. Remus is staying._

”Sorry,” Remus said. Sirius blinked dumbly as he was trying to wrap his head around what it was that Remus was apologising for. ”For earlier, I mean.” Sirius’s heart sunk in his chest and he bit down hard on his lip to not let it spill his emotions.

”Nerves,” Sirius shrugged, ”it’s alright, I get it.”

”Yeah,” Remus mumbled and looked away, moving to fix something with his bass that didn’t seem to need fixing. ”Nerves.”

”Listen,” Sirius said quickly, ”we don’t have to talk about it. Perhaps it’s better if we do not talk at all. Keep everything civil until this tour is over with?”

Remus huffed. His back was still turned to Sirius, but Sirius could still sense his tenseness, he could see how his knuckles were turning white on the hand that gripped around the bass all too tightly. 

”Right.” Sirius ran a hand through his hair. His fingers were shaking ever so slightly, and he flexed them in an attempt to make the trembling stop, but it didn’t work. ”Goodbye, Remus,” he added, and his voice was quieter, more fragile than he had intended it to be. The words cut deeper than he wanted them to; ripping open that awful old wound, resurfacing the memories of Remus’s teary eyes; the betrayed expression on his face.

Sirius shook his head to himself and walked towards the room without Remus saying a word to stop him. He hesitated as he reached for the door handle, giving Remus a moment longer to stop him, beg him to stay, _kiss him again_. Anything was better than the thick, nauseating silence.

But the silence stuck in the air until Sirius slammed the door behind him and left.

Sirius knew he was being foolish for hoping for anything more than Remus’s silence. He knew he deserved nothing more, and he knew that Remus was not one to just throw his affections at those who did not deserve it.

But at least he would stay. At least he would still be around, and maybe Sirius would be given another chance to prove himself worthy of Remus. Maybe. But not tonight. Tonight, Remus needed space, and Sirius would give him it. He was ready to do whatever it was that Remus needed, no matter how badly it pulled at his own heartstrings, _anything_ to prove himself.

James and Lily waited for him in the cold air of the outside, both of them dressed in warm coats, standing huddled together like the two love doves they were. Sirius pulled his coat tighter around his body, cursing himself for not picking a top with a little more fabric. He walked over, trying to shuffle his annoyance into the back of his mind to give space for all the love and excitement he felt getting to spend time with his friends.

”Mary told us the news!” Lily said with a smile that was so full, it spilt over and onto Sirius’s face.

”Bloody hell, mate! Crescent? That’s brilliant!” James was smiling too, pulling Sirius in for a tight hug and pulling Evans with him, so that they were all embraced in a big group hug. ”You were absolutely smashing it tonight!” He placed one overly dramatic kiss on either one of Sirius’s cheeks and pulled away to look at him, smiling like the proud brother Sirius knew him as.

”Yeah, honestly still trying to wrap my head around it all,” Sirius admitted, and once again, his lie had been far to close to the truth. In fact, the tour wasn’t even on his mind, despite how long he had dreamed of having anything to do with Crescent, it just did not seem as important at that moment.

The melancholy must have washed over his face then, because James’s expression turned into a concerned one.

”Let’s grab a drink,” Sirius suggested, but James only raised an eyebrow.

”To celebrate, or to drown our mysterious sorrows?”

”Both?” Sirius tried with a sigh, but James clearly wasn’t satisfied with that response.

”There’s a right answer to that question, my dear friend, and that was not it,” James said, ”come on, let’s head home instead. You can stay with us tonight and tell me what’s bringing this big ugly cloud of rain over your glorious success.”

And because Sirius knew better than to argue with James Potter, he soon found himself in the back of Lily’s car next to James, who had given up the passenger’s seat in favour of joining Sirius in the back. The radio was playing quietly in the background; James had deliberately turned it down as he waited expectantly for Sirius to pour his heart out.

”It’s something with Remus,” he said, and it wasn’t as much a question as it was a statement.

”Why would it be something with Remus?” Sirius asked in a defensive tone he knew was giving him away.

”Because I know you,” James said simply, ”so what is it?”

”I really don’t want to talk about it.”

”And I really don’t want my best friend to be a mopey ass for no reason.”

”It’s not for no reason.”

”Alright then, so what’s the reason?” James insisted. Sirius sighed and turned to glare at James for a moment before he answered.

”He kissed me.”

The car screeched as Lily pressed the breaks, and they were all lucky the streets of London were nowhere near as busy as they usually were during the day, or they probably would have crashed.

”He kissed you?” Lily asked, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. James waved her off as if that was not really the important part, because James knew that it wasn’t.

”So you talked to him, then?” James asked instead as the car began moving again, Lily not so subtly eavesdropping on the conversation currently being held in the backseat of her car.

”No. I mean, yes. Yes but not in that way,” Sirius said, and Sirius couldn’t blame James for looking so confused because so was he.

”Did you say you were sorry?” James questioned.

”No,” Sirius replied honestly.

”Did you two somehow miraculously make up despite that?”

”No.”

”But you’re on good terms now?”

”No.”

”But he kissed you?”

”Yes.” Sirius sighed. James looked like his head had just exploded into a million tiny pieces, and he was struggling to put the puzzle of his brain back together.

As James searched for the right words to phrase his next question, Lily piped up from the front seat. She had always been the more reasonable of them, and she had that magical ability to always analyse things in a way that was much more intricate, but somehow still simpler than either James or Sirius ever could.

”Do you still have feelings for him, Sirius?” she asked.

And wasn’t that the million-dollar question? Sirius struggled to breathe for a moment, though his mouth was still hanging open wide. The feelings that Sirius had had for Remus all those years were strong, stronger than anything he had ever felt before; stronger than the hatred he felt for his family, stronger even, perhaps, than the brotherly love he felt for James.

Those kinds of feelings did not go away so very easily; they were much more stubborn than Sirius would have wanted them to be. He did not have to be reminded of kissing Remus every time he spoke or smile, he did not have to be reminded of how wonderful it felt to be touched by Remus every time he watched those very same hands pluck the strings of the bass. He did not have to. He did not want to, and yet he was.

Things were far more complicated now than they had ever been before, and sure, that affected Sirius’s feelings for Remus a bit, but it did not erase or replace them. There was guilt, of course, but it was just as strong as the love he still felt.

”Yeah,” Sirius said finally. James had leaned back in his seat, and he looked a whole lot more collected than he had a few minutes earlier. ”Yeah, I think I do.”

”I think he does too, love,” Lily said, ”but just like you, he probably doesn’t know how to handle them right now.” Sirius sighed and sunk down into his seat, looking out the window at the streetlights as they passed by. The yellow lights soon became blurry as his eyes filled up with tears, and he let them fall down his cheeks soundlessly. If James noticed, he didn’t say anything.

”What should I do?” Sirius asked.

”It’s better to give him some space, I think,” Lily replied gently, ”you need to figure out how you feel and take things from there. It might take some time, but it will be worth it, in the end.” Sirius nodded, even though Lily couldn’t see him. He was still crying, his chest still ached, but he knew that Lily was right.

Remus needed some space, and Sirius was ready to give him the entire universe, if that was what he needed.


End file.
